


She Was an Army Girl

by sparrowwrites



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-09 13:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparrowwrites/pseuds/sparrowwrites
Summary: Beca is a Sergeant in the US Army and she is getting deployed for the third time in her military career. Military AU starting with Jeca but the endgame is Bechloe.





	1. Never Say Never

**Author's Note:**

> All information about the military comes from growing up with two army soldiers as parents. Feel free to leave constructive criticism.

I'd never thought about what would happen if my squad was designated to ship out again.

It was a normal, sunny, early September day in the heart of South Carolina, Fort Jackson. I was up bright and early waiting for a couple of my closest friends and squad members. We had made plans to get brunch after Stacie's daughter, Lizzy, had been dropped off at school. Nobody ever tells you that they give you the news on a normal day. From prior experience, I should have known better, but my last two cozy years in the States has made me naive again. My boyfriend, Jesse, had just woken up and walked into the living room of our base home when a harsh knocking on the front door startled us both. Thinking it must be Stacie and Amy, I answered the door with a smile on my face. 

I was wrong.

A man I had seen on base on multiple occasions was dressed in full ASUs on my doorstep with a large envelope in his hand.

"Excuse me, ma'am," the man stood stock still as if at attention with a slight bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. The uniform he was wearing looked rather warm for the weather today, "Are you Ms. Rebeca Mitchell?"

"Sergeant," I snapped to reality and locked eyes with him, "Sergeant Mitchell. What brings me the pleasure of having you on my doorstep, Private?"

"I apologize. I've been given a list of names and addresses to deliver letters to, ma'am," he replies while holding out the envelope, "You're my last stop of the morning. There will be a follow-up call later today that will fill you in on more details. Good day, ma'am."

He turned sharply and left without another word.

My fingers clutched at the envelope in my hand and I could feel the thick paper of the official letter through the packaging. Jesse must have walked up behind me because I felt his hand rest on my shoulder and jumped nearly a mile.

"Honey, what is that?" He asks as I turn to face him.

I void my face of emotion and lower my hands to my sides. My mind shuts off as I reply, "Nothing," and walk past him towards the side entrance of the house.

"Becs, answer me for real," Jesse looks pale as a ghost as I turn my head to look over my shoulder at him, "You're scaring me."

"It's really nothing, Jes," my hand grips even tighter on the envelope, "I have to go meet Stacie and Amy."

I grab my keys as I walk outside to my car, shivering despite the heat of the early September sun. I sit in the driver's seat for a few seconds before starting the car and backing out of the driveway. My body is on autopilot as I drive across base to Stacie's home. Aubrey's car sits in the driveway but Stacie's car is not beside it like usual.

"She must be dropping off Lizzy this morning," I whisper to myself as I park the car on the street and remove the key from the ignition.

My fingers find the folding knife on my keychain. I slowly unfold it and cut the top of the envelope off. Inside is a singular letter with the Army insignia on the top left corner of the paper. A knock on the window of the car startles me. I look up to see Stacie trying to open my locked door.

"Come on, Mitchell. Open up," She yanks at the handle and I unlock the door. It swings open suddenly and she nearly falls backward from her own momentum.

I laugh and climb out of the car, "Easy there, Conrad. You don't need to hurt yourself."

"What do you have there?" Stacie points at the envelope still in my hand, an uneasy smile dancing on her lips.

"Is Aubrey home?" I avoid the question but the look on her face tells me she already knows.

"She took my car to the school. Come inside," She motions for me to follow and we walk shoulder to shoulder up the sidewalk to her front door.

I instinctively plop down on the couch in her living room as she heads to the kitchen to grab drinks. Knowing Stacie, it was going to be something a little stronger than coffee this morning. This happens occasionally, me going to her house for a drink before noon, but not usually for this reason. After a few minutes of waiting, I get up and follow her into the kitchen. She's standing at the counter holding an identical envelope to the one still in my hand, a letter with an Army insignia sits on the counter in front of her. A small pink post-it note with Aubrey's handwriting on it is stuck on the front of the envelope.

_"Good morning, love. A man in dress uniform dropped this off for you before you woke up this morning. I'll see you when I get back from dropping off Lizzy. I love you lots, babe ♥" ~ Aubrey_

My arms are around Stacie, and I'm pulling her into a hug before I've finished reading the note.

"Didn't think they'd want us again," I sigh into her shoulder as I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

Don't get me wrong, I love serving my country. It just gets harder and harder to get on that plane every time they deploy us though. This will be my third and hopefully final tour. Stacie and I have been in the same squad since college in our ROTC program at Barden. It has been 8 years since we met at orientation, and I've never been through as much hell with anyone as I have with her. We haven't shipped out since she and Aubrey adopted Lizzy a year and a half ago. I'd never seen her cry about a deployment before but I can't blame her, especially considering what she has to lose this time around.

"I can't leave them here, Beca," Stacie whispers, confirming my assumptions.

"You're not leaving forever, Stace," I hug her tighter then pull back to look at her face.

"I promised Lizzy I would never leave now that I have her," Stacie covers her face and turns back to the letter at the counter.

"Stacie..." I start. It's never good to tell anyone that you're not getting deployed again, but she knows this. From the looks of it, she's already kicking herself for making that mistake. It's an unspoken rule: never say never.

"I know," she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, "Can you help me tell Aubrey?"

"Only if you help me tell Jesse," I rest my hand on her shoulder and smile at her, "We've got this, Conrad. Your old Serg isn't going to back down anytime soon."

She laughs but quickly sobers herself when a car door slams outside. Neither of us moves. Both hold letters in our hands with knuckles whiter than the crisp paint on the base house walls as Aubrey turns the knob on the side door leading into the kitchen.

"Hey baby - Oh, hi Beca! I thought you two were going out for food," She stops cold when her eyes catch the tear tracks on her wife's face and the letters hanging by our sides.

"Bree..." Stacie sighs as her wife disappears back out the door she came from.

I grab her arm and pull her back when she tries to follow, "Give her a minute, Stace. It's going to be hard."

"I know but I want to talk to her," Stacie pulls away.

"Let her talk to you," I step between her and the door, blocking her path, "It's not going to do any good if you talk at her instead of with her."

Stacie sighs again and crumples the letter in her hand, "Can you go after her with me?"

"Fine."

Aubrey hadn't gone far. She was standing in the little garden to the rear of the yard, staring at the garden wall. Stacie walks up to her and hugs her from behind while resting her head on her shoulder and rocking her gently back and forth.

"You promised," Bree breathes between sobs and turns to bury her face in Stacie's shoulder.

I back up towards the house to give them a moment when my phone rings. Jesse.

"Hello?"

"Becs, what was that letter you got this morning?"

"..."

"Becs. Answer me," his voice sounding frantic.

"I'm being deployed in two weeks time. I can't tell you where. Sorry," I sigh into the phone. _Buttfuck nowhere, probably,_ I think to myself as the words flow from my mouth.

"Babe. Again?" Jesse sounds distraught.

Jesse and I got together during sophomore year when I became a full-on part of the ROTC program. He has been through all of these deployments with me, or, without me, I suppose. He passed out the first time I told him I was going overseas. The second time was a little easier. However, now feels like a step back.

"Yes," I reply coldly.

"Becs, I thought we were going to try to start a family. Settle down. Get the hell off this base. All of this!" He starts yelling into the phone and I hang up.

As if I didn't notice that he'd become more insistent on not using a condom for the past few months. We'd never fully talked about life after my rotation is done, but I know he's been getting reckless. My letter did not state for how long I would be gone, but, judging by the fact that a Private was sent in person to come give me the letter and that he told me I should be expecting a call means it won't be anything short term. Jesse is desperate and very eager to start "real life" and to get away from the hustle and bustle of military life. I love him but not that part of him.

It's not as though I'm flirting with 40. Neither of us is over 30 and I would never want to have kids myself anyway. As my commander used to tell me, I am small as shit. I don't have the body to bear a child and this body doesn't ever plan on attempting it.

Jesse's name pops up on my phone again. 12 missed messages and a voicemail. Fantastic...

I walk back to my car and lean on the driver side door, pulling the letter out of the envelope. Amy wouldn't be receiving this one. Not this time, anyway. She transferred to the national guard after our last tour on medical. I lean my head back against the car window and sigh deeply. I'll be leading the squad this time. I am the only Sergeant in the squad and there is no way they would put a Staff Sergeant with us out of nowhere. It's possible, I suppose, but unlikely. Despite the military's tendency to inconvenience most of everyone, they don't usually do anything without logical thought behind it. I am perfectly qualified. I led two separate missions on our last tour without a problem. It's not as though I have an opposition to leading... I'm just very aware that some of the decisions I might have to make on the fly could kill or save the squad.

"Ugh, and I thought college was stressful," I groan to myself and turn around to open the car door.

My phone is still buzzing quietly in my pocket but I ignore it and turn on my car. I drive back to my home and pull into the driveway. Jesse is standing on the doorstep, phone in hand. Probably still attempting to call me...

My feet carry me to the door and I fold myself into his arms. I can feel his tears dripping into my hair. He's whispering to me. I don't listen. I push myself away and go inside to pull out my ACUs. It's best to make sure they still fit before we deploy. Tailors are rather hard to come by in Buttfuck nowhere. It's best to never say never though. I ran into one on my first tour that helped refit my pants after I lost weight in the field. 


	2. I Love You. I Hate You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbyes are hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only time they do it. I promise.

"I love you," Jesse moans into my ear between the wet kisses he leaves on my neck.

My back arches into his touch and I feel him pressing himself closer to my clothed body. There’s no denying that it feels pretty damn good. His fingers fumble with the button to my jeans and I wince as he roughly pulls them over my hips after losing his patience. I kiss him back and wrap my legs around his naked back. I swear the man always goes nuts for this. He frickin’ loves skin contact. Well, definitely much more than I do. I just don’t, but he's upset so I give him what he would ask for if he'd actually use words rather than grunting and moaning with each action. Raking my nails down his back earns another groan, big surprise. 

Jesse's hands rip at his belt and his slacks are off and on the floor before I can retract my legs from around him. I close my eyes and let it happen, going through the motions he would want me to. He pins my hands above my head with one of his own and he pulls his member from his boxers with the other.

'Dear god I wish I wasn't here,' I think to myself. My eyes are still shut tight when I feel my underwear being torn from my body.

'Great...' I sigh internally.

With a long, throaty moan, he thrusts into me and I arch my back again. His hands grip at my hips, shoulders, neck and everywhere else as he lets his frustration loose on my body with a feverish intensity. I can already feel the bruises forming. I wrap my legs tighter around him to try to limit how deep he can penetrate. It isn't comfortable but I moan and whine for him when he asks and I wait patiently for him to finish. I feel a twinge of guilt when I tell him I'm close. In reality, I'm definitely not turned on enough for how rough he is fucking me. You'd think after almost 6 years of sex, he'd know when I'm actually into it though...

Then again, I can't blame him. I fake it a lot for his pleasure. I hate the dumb puppy dog eyes he gives me when I say no, and the fact that I'm shipping out in the morning makes me feel guilty enough to give him his way.

I think back to the first time we slept together and feel sort of sad. I'd just gotten back from a weekend training trip with rotc and he was waiting at my dorm with flowers, roses, and mini chocolates with peanut butter in them. I fucking love chocolate with peanut butter and I remember feeling so touched because I don't think I ever outright told him that fact.

We'd been dating for a couple months and only made out a handful of times, but this was the only one I ever initiated. I dropped my bags, still in my ACUs, and pinned him to my door. At some point, we'd ended up on my bed and my uniform was stripped off piece by piece. Jesse had been so patient with me. He'd guided me through it. It wasn't my first time but it had been awhile and he knew I was nervous. Hell, I was young and in love and afraid of making a mistake. It felt okay the first time. After a few more, he'd discovered ways to make me enjoy every minute of our alone time.

I was still lost in thought reminiscing about times when I had actually enjoyed this act when out of nowhere, he pulls out and asks me to roll onto my stomach.

"Please, Becs," he pants, clearly out of breath. 

"Okay?" I try not to sound too questioning but its obviously there. I roll onto my stomach and immediately his hands find my hips. He lifts them off the mattress and spreads my knees slightly with his own. His hard member is pressed against me before I feel his hand grip my hair and pull my neck and back into a slightly uncomfortable position. Before I can protest, he's inside of me again, and I feel a little bit of pleasure from this new angle. Definitely not enough to make up for the awkward way he's pulling my neck back though...

"Fuck yes, Becs," he moans and thrusts faster.

Feeling him tense up, I moan in response and feel his thick, hot cum fill me moments later. He releases his grip on my hair and rolls off of me onto his back. I roll onto my side and curl up with my head on his shoulder.

"I love you, Beca," he whispers before promptly falling asleep. 

A single tear drips from the corner of my eye.

_'I hate you.'_

 

* * *

 

"Becaaa," I wake up with a start to the sound of Amy's voice outside my bedroom door. Jesse grunts in his sleep and rolls over away from me and my mind flashes back to last night. 

"Give me a second, Amy," I shout towards the door. 

I rummage through my laundry for a clean pair of jeans. All I can find are some dress slacks so I throw those on really quickly and slip on some flats. I unlock my bedroom door and enter the hall to find Aubrey, Amy, and Stacie standing there. I freeze and can feel heat rising to my face. Aubrey is holding onto Stacie's arm with a visibly white-knuckled grip.

"What's up bitches?" I ask with a yawn and a scowl, "it feels like 5 am."

"That's because it is, short stuff," Amy replies. 

"What the hell?!" I growl and turn to head back towards my bed. 

"Well, Mitchell, the two of us leave at 8:30, and Bree, Amy, and I thought we should go do something," Stacie grabs my shoulder with a tense grip. 

 _Fuck_.

"Shit, dude, I'm sorry," I turn around again and face the others, "Let me get dressed and I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Feeling slightly more awake, I find a nice pair of skinny jeans, a sweater, and my black sneakers scattered in my closet. My underwear from last night are in shreds on the floor but I quickly toss them in the trash after grabbing a new pair and throwing on the clothes I'd picked out for the morning. 

Stacie loops her arm around mine the second I walk into the kitchen. My friends had already started the coffee maker up and were sitting comfortably at the bar by the time I’d come back apparently.

“I really hate that you two have to go,” Amy remarks while Bree turns her face away.

Stacie releases me and sits next to Bree, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Do you know how long you’ll actually be gone?” Amy asks with rare genuine concern tinging her tone.

“I wish, honestly,” I respond and sigh, “The letter was vague and the phone call was even vaguer.

It really was super vague too. There were zero clues as to what Stacie and I would be doing overseas. Both of us are expert marksmen and scored among the highest in our latest PT and weapons tests. Stacie definitely looks like the strong one. She always wears tight clothing to accentuate the tone-ness of her muscular figure. The biceps on that girl could put most of the men in our squad to shame. Jesse is practically a stick figure when compared to Stacie albeit he never really exercises.

I, on the other hand, generally surprise my opponents. I look tiny but I can lift nearly double my weight and my close-quarter combat skills are top-notch. It gives me great satisfaction to watch the sudden shift of emotion when my sparring partners realize what they’ve gotten themselves into. Personally, I love being strong. It’s one of the best things the army has given me.

“I still think they’re sending us over to assassinate someone,” Stacie pipes up, “You know, full sniper style where we avoid combat at all times and take out a target.”

“That’s what you’re hoping for, I’m assuming?” Bree sighs and looks up at her wife’s face.

“I think we all like to avoid the actual combat zone,” I sigh again, “Training simulations are one thing but knowing you could actually bite the bullet makes me totally nervous.”

"Don't you mean 'bite the dust'?" Stacie laughs.

“And did you just say totally?” Amy laughs along with her as she pours herself some more coffee.

“Oh, shut it, Amy,” I snap.

Everything gets super tense for a second and I can feel goosebumps rising on my arms the back of my neck. It didn’t occur to me how on edge everyone was. A few moments later, we were talking again. We all ignored what had happened. It continued like this for nearly two hours: us talking, someone (usually me or Bree) snapping, moments of tense silence, and repeat.

At around 7:30 am, Jesse finally appeared, boxers and all.

“Oh, hey everyone,” he yawns as he speaks, distorting his words.

We all murmur hellos and ignore his presence until 8 rolls around and Amy, Bree, and Stacie stand up to leave. Stacie gives me an extra tight hug and goes out to start the car. Aubrey pulls me into a loose hug and whispers a string of “be safe”s and “we love you”s. Amy follows her and lifts me mid-hug, squeezing me super tight.

“You better write to us, got it?” Amy asks in the doorway.

“Of course, I will. You know how much I wrote last time we were on a tour together,” I smile and hug her gingerly again before she disappears out the door.

Bree comes back inside and throws her arms around me again. I’m caught off guard but still wrap my arms around her. I feel her lips barely brushing against my ear and I shiver.

“Keep her safe. Bring her home,” she whispers directly into my ear.

Fuck.

If that kind of statement doesn’t get to you, congratulations; you should join the army.

She left me there feeling dumbstruck and went out to the car where Stacie was still waiting.

 _‘Why do goodbyes have to be so hard?’_ I whine to my inner self.

I turn back towards my bedroom and stop cold at the thought of saying goodbye to Jesse. It is safe to say that he will not take it well.

Without another thought, I take off my shirt, put up my hair, and return to the bedroom to give Jesse a goodbye that I can at least emotionally bear.

_‘At least this goodbye won’t be the same kind of hard…’_


End file.
